World Without Weasleys
by SincerelyPinkPanties
Summary: Tis going to be a very long, non-canon /you've been warned/ response to Stalker of Stories' World Without Weasleys Challenge. Tis my first chapterfic, so if I bellyflop it, please refrain from laughing. Eventual Harry/Draco. T for future blashphemies.
1. In The Beginning

Title: In The Beginning  
Summary: In the beginning, there were no Weasleys. And it was good.  
Word Count: 1,257  
Disclaimer: *sighs* Still don't own Harry Potter. Woe is me.  
A/N: This is the first chapter to a story that will hopefully be very looooong. I'm writing it in response to Stalker of Stories' challenge 'The World Without Weasleys' on The Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum. Obviously it's **not going to be canon**. Please don't bitch about this, as I stated plainly in the summary that it wouldn't be. Thank-you and enjoy.

Harry stared around. There was no Platform 9 ¾ to be seen. His stomach turned at the thought that the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to get him thrown into an insane asylum. But then he recalled Dudley's horrified face as Hagrid gave him a pig's tale and he was pretty sure it was all real. Or he was incredibly insane.

Just as he was contemplating asking one of the workers (at the risk of being assumed a mental patient), a small, bushy-haired girl bustled over to him, with what looked like her parents, in tow. "Excuse me, but you were looking confused," the girl explained, her large, brown eyes looking unwaveringly into his.

"Well, I…uh. I'm looking for Platform 9 ¾," he said, hoping this girl wouldn't question his sanity. To his relief, she smiled and stuck out one hand.

"My names Hermione Granger. I read all about Hogwarts in _Hogwarts: A History_. We have to go through that wall," she said, pulling her hand out of his and pointing towards a large beam supporting an arch.

"Really?"

"Really. You never said what your name was," Hermione answered.

"Uh, I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you Harry. Would you like to go through with me?" she asked him.

"Yes. Thank-you," Harry answered and grabbed the handle of his trolley up again.

"Oh and these are my parents, Jean and Mark Granger. They were just leaving," she said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"She won't let us walk her through the gate," Jean said, with a watery smile.

"Says she can take care of herself," Mark said, his smile proud, but just as watery.

"Muuuum. Daaaad. Please. I'll be just fine. Here, give me a kiss," she ordered, embracing her mother, then her father. "I promise to write tonight before bed. Don't forget to feed Roger and if you could, hold her every once in a while, so she doesn't get lonely, okay?"

Her parents stepped back, both on the verge of crying, and Harry felt like he was invading their privacy.

"It was nice to meet you Harry. We love you Hermione," her mother said.

Harry blushed and said, "It was nice meeting you as well."

Hermione grabbed her trolley with one hand and Harry's free hand with the other, and with one last look at her parents, started pulling Harry toward the wall she'd mentioned earlier. Harry gulped as they got closer and Hermione smiled reassuringly at him. Harry closed his eyes as they neared the wall, and let Hermione do the leading. When he felt a tug on his hand, he opened his eyes and was amazed to find himself standing next to a train. Students and their parents were milling about, saying their goodbyes. Harry let Hermione pull him toward the train, taking everything in speechlessly. He pulled his eyes away from the delightful scene to help Hermione get their luggage on the train, but was looking around again in amazement, being led by Hermione as soon as they were on the train as well.

In the compartment, Hermione procured a book from God knew where, and sat down, gesturing for Harry to join her. He silently sat down next to her and gazed out the train window. There were so many people. All these people (and more, he reminded himself) belonged to a different world. He belonged to a different world. One where he could become something other than Dudley's punching bag or the Dursley's servant. He could start over here and become whatever he wanted. He smiled and settled back into his seat. This was going to be the best thing that ever happened to him. He was absolutely positive about it.

* * *

Two hours later, Harry was woken by the sound of a familiar voice sneering, "So you're the famous Harry Potter?"

Harry shook his head to ward off the effects of sleep and then opened his eyes. He panicked when everything remained blurry, but quickly realized Hermione must have removed his glasses, so he wouldn't crush them while he slept. He looked over at her to see that she hadn't woken at the intrusion. He nudged her. "Hermione? Hermione, wake up."

"What? Are we there already?" she asked, sitting up straight and looking around. When she noticed the people in the doorway she handed Harry his glasses without a word.

Putting them on, Harry wasn't exactly pleased to find himself faced with the cocky blonde from Madam Malkin's. At his back were two hulking figures, neither looking very intelligent.

"Famous? What? I don't understand. I think you're mistaken," Harry finally said, fidgeting with the zipper on his coat.

The unpleasant boy scoffed. "I'm Draco. We met at Madam Malkin's. Remember?

Hermione eyed the three boys and then turned to Harry. "He's a Malfoy, I believe. I'm not sure about the other three, but he has distinct qualities that would point at the Malfoy lineage. He has blonde hair, a fair build, and his skin is pale. If he is the Malfoy heir, then his mother is a Black, which would explain the grey eyes."

Draco turned his attention from Harry to look at Hermione in something akin to awe. "How do you know so much about my family?" His voice sounded a tad suspicious, but Harry could tell that he was also proud to be well-known.

"I read about it in Contemporary Famous Witches and Wizards. Harry's in there too."

Harry looked over at his new friend in astonishment. "What am I doing in a book?" he asked. His confusion played on his face, but inside he was anxious as well. He was supposed to be starting over. Nobody had ever mentioned that he was famous. Yeah that Voldemort character had tried to kill him, but Hagrid hadn't said anything about being famous. He would have remembered that.

Hermione looked pained. "Well after You-Know-Who, um, after he-"

"Killed my parents? It's okay Hermione. I don't even remember them. I just-why am I in a book?"

"Voldemort was a powerful sorcerer. He killed a lot of people, including your parents. But-," she stopped, her eyes flashing to Harry's forehead.

"But what?" Harry asked fretfully, letting his emotions get the best of him, so focused on Hermione that he didn't even notice when Draco gave an exagerated sigh and stomped off.

"He-he couldn't kill you, Harry. He tried, but he couldn't. That's why you've the scar. When he tried, he just disappeared. Nobody knows exactly what happened to him, but you were hailed as the savior to the wizarding world."

Harry looked at Hermione rather blankly. Inside he was groaning and screaming, but outside he remained calm and cool. Mustn't show the strain, he reminded himself, or they win. In his mind, 'they' had started out as the Dursleys and quickly expanded to include everyone else in the world. He struggled internally with the fact that he wasn't getting his re-do. He wasn't being given the chance to remake himself.

"Harry? Harry, are you quite alright?"

"Yes, Hermione. I'm fine," Harry said evenly. This is going to suck, he told himself. This is only going to be marginally better than living with the Dursleys. At least he wouldn't be forced to clean for hours or live cramped in a small closet. But it wasn't going to be what he thought, what he wished it could be. He determinedly kept the melancholy from his face. This is going to be just about the worst thing ever. He was certain.


	2. Whatever That Means

Title: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! …Whatever That Means  
Summary: Harry's sorted and is a bit dubious of Quirrell and Dumbledore.  
Word Count: 2,055  
Disclaimer: Still with the not owning and the being poor.  
A/N: Yes, this chapter is a bit slow. Or ok, downright boring maybe, but it has to be done. And if you're wondering why Harry isn't as aware of the reaction to him being a Slytherin, remember he didn't have Ron telling him the Slytherins were bad, so he would have written off their reactions as them still being star-shocked. And NO this isn't a Dumbledore-bashing fic, but Harry isn't going to be as all-trusting as he was in the books. So, uh yeah. I'll let you get to the reading.

Sometime after the Malfoy incident, a short and pleasantly-plump woman came by asking if they'd like to buy any chocolate frogs or cauldron cakes. Harry's stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before. He looked over at Hermione who seemed engrossed in her book. He didn't want to disturb her over sweets, so he just asked for a bit of everything. The witch smiled at him and handed the stuff through. "11 sickles and 7 knuts," she told him.

Harry counted out the money from the bag of wizarding money that he'd gotten at Gringotts with Hagrid. Harry set everything on the seat next to him and looked it over. He'd never heard of any of it. Chocolate frogs? He wondered if they were anything like the crunchy frog chocolates in Monty Python sketch he'd once seen. He shuddered and decided to wait on those until later. He grabbed one of the cauldron cakes instead, as it looked the most familiar. Next he tried a pumpkin pasty, along with some iced pumpkin juice. Just as he was deciding between the chocolate frogs and licorice wands, Hermione finally came up from her book.

"You should try one of the chocolate frogs. They have cards inside of them with famous witches and wizards on them," she said.

Harry looked up at her. "Do you want one?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I promised my mum and dad that I wouldn't eat any sweets until after dinner and that I would brush my teeth as soon as I had. They're dentists," she explained.

Harry grinned back as he opened the wrapper for the chocolate frog. He bit back a yelp as the frog leaped out of the package and onto the seat. He looked wide-eyed at Hermione, who was looking amused. "Are they supposed to do that?" he asked her. She nodded. Harry just shook his head and watched the frog hop about. He wondered if he'd ever get used to things like this happening.

He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Hermione's voice. "What does the card say? Who's on it?" she asked him.

Harry pulled the card from the wrapper and looked at the picture for a moment before turning it over and reading it aloud.

_**ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**__  
Currently Head master of Hogwarts. _

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. _

_Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling. _

Hermione smiled. "I've read about him as well," she told Harry. She frowned a little. "I don't recall reading about Nicolas Flamel, though. Can I have that card?" she asked him. Harry shrugged and handed it to her. "I'm going to research him as soon the first chance I get. I wonder if the library will be opened tonight," she mused as she placed the card in her book.

Harry smiled to himself and began opening another chocolate frog and Hermione went back to her book. It felt nice, Harry thought, to just sit with someone who wasn't judging you. He hoped he and Hermione would be friends.

An hour later, Hermione stood. "We should get changed into our school things," she told him. Harry nodded and followed her out of the compartment.

After they had changed and returned to their compartment, Harry tidied up the small mess he'd made with the wrappers. He was about to leave the compartment again to throw it all away, when Hermione asked, "What house do you suppose you'll be in?"

"House?" Harry asked. He'd heard the blonde boy talking about houses in Madam Malkin's, but he hadn't understood why.

"There's four houses," Hermione started. "Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff. Students are sorted into a house based on their character and where they would best be placed. Ravenclaw is where the book smart and intellectual ones go, Slytherin is for those who are ambitious and quick-witted, the brave and chivalrous are for Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff houses the loyal and righteous. You get sorted by a hat that apparently speaks. How ridiculous is that? A speaking hat. Anyways, I hope I'm in Ravenclaw. How about you?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really sure. They all sound nice. I'm not particularly book smart though, so I most likely won't end up in Ravenclaw. Slytherin sounds okay, though I'm not sure I'd want to be a Gryffindor. Doesn't it seem odd that they separate kids into houses? Wouldn't it create divides and fighting?"

Hermione nodded. "It does. It's based upon the wishes of the founders of Hogwarts though. Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Godric Gryffindor. They fought about what type of students should be allowed into Hogwarts and eventually ended up with four houses. You should read _Hogwarts: A History_. It's very informative."

Harry smirked. Just as he was about to answer, the train stopped. He looked around questioningly. "Are we here already?"

Hermione looked out the window. "I believe we are," she said. "Harry look! That man is huge!"

Harry looked out the window too. "That's Hagrid. He's the grounds-keeper here. He's the one who brought me my letter and then took me to get my school supplies." Harry smiled fondly. "Would you like to meet him?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to ask questions, but just nodded instead.

They left the compartment to join the crowd of students getting off the train. He looked over at Hermione who looked a little overwhelmed and reached over and took her hand. She smiled at him and they continued on.

Once they were off the train they could hear and see that the large man was directing the first years one direction. Harry dragged Hermione over to the giant of a man. "Hello Hagrid," he said.

The tall, black-haired man looked down and smiled. "How ya doin' there, Harry?"

"I'm fine, thanks. This is Hermione Granger," Harry said, gesturing with his head.

"Nice t' meet ya, Miss Granger. Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine," he said with a beaming grin.

Hermione blushed and nodded.

"You should get going that way." Hagrid pointed. "Find a boat and I'll be there shortly."

They got across the lake without incident, though Hermione didn't seem too fond of the boat ride. Their first view of the castle had taken Harry's breath away. He'd never seen something so massive. He wondered how it was hidden from the rest of the world. He grinned when Hermione started telling him about it. Of course she would know.

Now they were standing in a line in front of the rest of the school. Hermione had, of course, been right about the sorting. Professor McGonagall had (besides being incredibly intimidating) told all the first years much the same thing as Hermione had told him. The room they were in was magnificent. There were thousands of candles floating over five tables. Four filled with students and on filled with professors. All the tables were covered in glittering gold dishes, although there was no food to be seen. Harry looked up and was startled to see stars.

Hermione of course knew about it. "It's enchanted to look like the night sky," she told him. "I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History._"

Harry nodded and watched as the tall, intimidating Professor McGonagall set down a stool and placed a pointed witch's hat on it. He started as the grungy looking hat sitting on the stool opened its mouth (?) and started to sing.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the __Hogwarts__ Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

You might belong in _Gryffindor__,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set __Gryffindor__s apart;  
You might belong in __Hufflepuff__,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient __Hufflepuff__s are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old __Ravenclaw__,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in __Slytherin__  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap! 

Harry managed to shut his mouth as the whole school broke out into applause. It wouldn't do to be found gaping like a fool. What did he expect anyways? He was in a magic school.

Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones were quickly sorted into Hufflepuff, and then a boy named Terry Boot and a nervous looking girl, Mandy Brocklehurst, were sorted into Ravenclaw. Lavender Brown was the first to be sorted into Gryffindor and Millicent Bulstrode the first Slytherin. The names and faces started to blur. Then Hermione was called and sorted into Ravenclaw and Harry smiled. She would fit well there. He lost track again until Draco Malfoy was called. He was sorted into Slytherin just as quickly as the hat was placed on his head. Harry watched Draco seat himself at the Slytherin table and then turned his nervous eyes back to the sorting. It seemed to be going so slowly. Harry began to stare off into space and was startled when he heard his name.

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry walked towards the hat, whispers broke out around the large room.

"Potter?"  
"_The_ Harry Potter?"

Harry sat on the stool and was relieved when all he could see was the black inside of the hat. He wasn't keen on being stared at, but at least this way he couldn't see them all staring at him.

Then a small voice said in his ear, "Not much for the spotlight, eh? More for the shadows then. But not a coward. No. Bit of a quick mind. Lots of ambition. You could be great one day. Let's see…where shall I put you?" Harry stiffened in anticipation. "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry sighed as he took the hat off and dashed towards the Slytherin table, glad that the whole ordeal was over. Once he was seated at the table between a small, black haired girl and an unpleasant looking behemoth, he looked up at the professors' table to find that many of them were staring at him with wide eyes, but none more than a pale, dark-haired man seemed to be. He looked like he was choking on something and Harry wondered if anyone was going to help him. Just then, Quirrell, a diminutive, sickly looking man in a ridiculous turban looked straight at Harry and Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead. "Ouch!" Harry yelped.

The black-haired girl turned to look at him with an odd expression on her face.

"Uh, headache," Harry explained. He wished Hermione was there so he could tell her. She would believe him and might even know what was wrong. He watched the rest of the kids get sorted in silence. A tall, dark-skinned boy named Blaise Zabini was sorted last and then Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll in her hands and took the sorting hat away.

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet then, and the look in his eye made Harry wonder if the man was all there. His large, senile-looking smile and his next words pretty much cemented his insanity in Harry's mind. He didn't care if the man was the most brilliant man in the world. He was positively barmy.

Suddenly the dishes in front of him were filled with food. Lots and lots of food. There were potatoes in every way imaginable, all different kinds of meats, vegetables, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. He'd never been able to eat as much as he liked before. Harry smiled and put Quirrell and Dumbledore out of his mind for the time being. Things were starting to look up.


End file.
